Reading Ripple Effect

I sit crosslegged on the bench, anchor charts behind me, the students before me on the rug, a book in my hands. I’m about 6 chapters into reading aloud one of my favorite middle grade books ever, one I’ve read to two other 5th grade classes before this one: Refugee by Alan Gratz.

I first read the book when Ariel and I lived together in 2017. Her mom worked for Scholastic at the time, and she gave us an uncorrected proof. We both devoured it.

I decided to try it as a read aloud for my fully-remote class during the pandemic. Read aloud was the only time of the day where I felt like the students were all engaged, even if their cameras were off.

Whenever we’d get to an exciting or intense part, various cameras would flash on to show me their shocked faces. The chat would be blowing up with emojis and “whaaaat?!!”s.

Refugee in particular got one of my students into reading. She thanked me for this in a card she gave me at her (luckily in-person) graduation. Knowing that I helped her to become motivated to read more filled my heart with all sorts of warm goop.

The next year, I read it to a completely different group of students in my new home, Miami. It was a class of just 13. They loved being read to, and they forced me to do a read aloud marathon in the days before Thanksgiving break, because they refused to go off on vacation without finishing Refugee.

It was with that same group that we decided to put on a theatrical production of Isabel’s story from the book. I took the dialogue straight from the text, and Angie helped me adapt it to our stage. The kids knocked it out of the park.

Now, as I read the lines of dialogue I’ve read so many times before, I can’t help hearing those students’ voices as the characters speak. So many rehearsals, so many times repeating those lines, getting them just right.

They became their characters, just like this year’s students became the characters of Flying Solo.

It’s a pretty magical thing the way my brain works, replaying that memory, and their voices, as I share the story with a new group for the first time, watching their eyes widen just like my students on Zoom’s did.

It’s like a ripple or an echo, reverberating through time. Reminding me of all the ways teachers, and books, can touch hearts and minds.